


Kiss The Tarmac

by HavenOnEarth



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adrenaline, But you already know this is a sansxreader, Cars, Hilarity, I'm going to add tags as I go because i wanna surprise you guys, IM SO HYPED, NASCAR, Racer!Reader, Racing, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Risk Taking, Strategizing, first multi-chapter work, oh well, some real racing out there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HavenOnEarth/pseuds/HavenOnEarth
Summary: Dreaming to kick up dust at the Daytona 500, rookie race car driver Annalise McGovern finds herself lacking a pit crew. When she meets up with the best team she’s seen in years, an opportunity for greatness shines down at her, and she jumps at the chance… without looking where she’ll land.{Dates will never be accurate, times will never be accurate, and laps will never be accurate. Don’t take my word on anything technical, anything I say in this story that applies to the workings of events or of anything racing-related is compiled data from the internet, my friends and my own common sense and information. I know nothing about NASCAR.}





	1. Lucky Number Seven

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Here we go boys! First fic on Ao3!!! Tell me what you think! I'd really appreciate you're opinion on things! 
> 
> Any warnings will appear on the bottom notes, okay? so that readers who want the surprise can just keep scrolling down. And those who wanna see the warnings can blip to the bottom.
> 
> Welp, on we go, let's get this show on the road!

“You have two hours before we have to drop you from the race.” He said, closing the door behind him.

After his footsteps faded into silence, you moved from your spot in the middle of the room. Your hands scrubbed at your face for a moment and you let out a stress-filled sigh. Glancing around the room, you see nothing but a table with a vase and a love seat, and decide that if you’re going to be anxious, you might as well be comfortable.

Slipping off your gloves, you drop yourself onto the worn cushion, tucking your gloves quickly into a pocket of your racing jacket and taking out your phone from the other.

Why is it that everything seemed to go wrong when you needed it to go right?

It was race day at the Darlington stadium, and you’d arrived ten minutes ago to go over some last minute strategies with the team, when you found a text from the crew chief saying they couldn’t make it to the stadium today, they had gotten hungover and suddenly had more worrying problems than wondering if you’d win today.

You’d panicked inside, just a little bit, but at this point, it was a regular occurrence. Your mother might have all the money, but she really sucks at judging character.

So at that point you didn’t even bother to call them, instead you ran to the director of the event and told him your pit crew had dropped out at the last moment. He sent you to some other guy, who would’ve talked your ear off if you didn’t remind him of your problem, and then _he_ sent you to someone _else_ , who had talked the situation over with some other managers, then escorted you to this room so you could make some phone calls.

Then, you found yourself here, closed in a very small, very dim room, and having no clue where to start.

You stared at your phone screen for a little bit, wondering if you could just call an airport to come take you home, and then threw that notion out the window. Instead, you called your mother.

A few rings passed, and then the receiver clicked. “ _Hello! This is Amanda speaking on behalf of Jet Stream Productions. How may I help you?”_

“Hey Amanda, it’s Anna.” You let your phone rest on your shoulder, “I was wondering if I could talk to Mom for a bit?”

“ _Oh Anna, Darling! It’s been so long, how are you?”_

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just in a bit of a pinch right now. If you could page me through…?”

“ _Of course, honey! Right away!”_

The line went dead, and a jazzy tune swaggered its way through the speaker. Leaning back into the love seat, you tapped your fingers to the beat as you waited for your mother to pick up.

You waited and waited, giving up on the music in favor of coursing your hands through your hair. You closed your eyes and groaned, can’t she just pick up the damn—

“ _Hello?_ ”

Finally.

“ _Annalise is that you?_ ”      

You sit up straighter in your seat, grabbing your phone in your hand once more. “Yes! Hi! Mother!”

“ _What seems to be the problem?_ ” She spoke, “ _Amanda at the desk told me you were in a pinch. You’re not having trouble with the racers again are you?_ ”

Glancing out the half-opened window, you took stock of the noticeably male racers before shaking your head. “No, no. It’s nothing like that, um…” You scratched at your nose, “I need a new pit crew.”

She huffed, “ _I just got you those other people, what happened now? You chase them away with your hair style today?_ ”

You flatten your palm against your hair with a frown, what’s gotten into her? She’s being cruder than normal. Maybe someone pissed in her raisin bran this morning.

“No. I didn’t. They got drunk last night and couldn’t come this morning.”

“ _Well, I don’t see how that’s_ my _problem. It’s_ your _pit crew._ ”

“That _you_ hired.”

“ _Do you not like the people I gave you? I paid good money for their services, I hope you know_.”

“No, Mom. I don’t like those people. I don’t like any of your people.”

Silence claimed to room for a moment, and you could almost feel the icy wind in her voice, “ _Well, since that seems to be the case, I think you can find your own pit crew._ ”

You paled a bit.

“No, no! Mom! I- You don’t _understand_! I don’t have time for this! I should be out on the race track at this point! _With_ a crew to—“

She hangs up.

You breathe for a second, phone still held up to your ear as you think, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. _This cannot be happening!_

Not only do you not have a pit crew, but you might have also just lost the biggest sponsor in your career. This is bad. Really bad.

You need to get your head in the game right now. The race starts in _not enough time_ , and you’re missing two very, very key components.

Hold up. Calm yourself. You haven’t lost her yet, right? Besides, she can’t drop out until she can meet you personally. Signatures and waivers and things. Okay, that’s fine. One problem has magically gone away for the moment.

Now. Problem two.

Taking your phone from your ear, you search the web for crew companies nearby. It’s not like anyone’s going to have a pit crew set up and ready to go, but you hold out some hope.

Fortunately, there are a couple, though they each say they’re busy with some other racer. You end up calling individual mechanic and car companies, desperate for at least _a_ team to back you up.

After several ‘Sorry’s, ‘No’s, and ‘Nuh Uh’s, you’re about ready to give up and resign from the race, when you spot your final hope, _Jaques’ Pits for the Pits_.

You tap on the link, and to your not-so-pleasant surprise, it’s a stupid deodorant website. Apparently Jacques has a problem with his sweat glands. ‘Smell fresh all day!’ ‘New! Deodorant Wipes!’ ‘Keep that sweat stain from stinking up your shirt!’

_Eww._

You flick down the screen absent-mindedly, a frown on your face as you consider just walking out and going home. Your eyes flick up to the time on your phone, sliding closed when you see the line-up starts in fifteen minutes.

You relax into your chair, your head lolling back to look at the ceiling. You stare, deep in thought for a little bit. After a minute, your eyes go unfocused, and the barest hints of a face swirls into the patterns on the wall. You laugh a bit and smile sadly at that familiar ugly mug.

“Sorry.” You mumble.

With a sigh, you push yourself back up and look down at your phone, an annoyed expression crossing your face when you see one of those irritating pop-up ads. You’re just about to cancel it when you see the words ‘pit crew’, and in your haste to stop your finger, you dropped the phone on the floor.

Scrambling to pick it up, you fall to your knees and juggle your phone until you can skim the ad for some details.

“Pit crew… looking for work...” Your eyes scan the entire ad, picturing it in your mind and keeping it there.

A smile breaks out on your face and you hastily retype the phone number into your dialing grid. It rings twice before a loud voice answers the call.

“—shh, shh!” They clear their throat, “Undyne speaking, you callin’ about the pit crew?”

You positively light up, almost stuttering over your words as you respond, “Y-Yes! Yes, the ad mentioned you were near the Darlington race track?”

The lady on the other end chuckles, “Hell yeah, don’t tell me you don’t have a pit crew for the race?”

When you blank out and stay silent, that’s all the answer she needs and she bursts out laughing, the sheer volume of her guffaw making the phone vibrate. You cut her off quickly, “Yes, Ha Ha, so funny, Okay? Listen, I’ll tell you the story later.” You glanced at your screen, “Think you can make it in twelve minutes?”

“Girly, we can make it in eight.”

You hung up and sat there a minute. Then, you jumped up from the floor like a spark was lit under your seat. You needed to get _moving._

You whipped out the door, nearly running into the attendant that was probably going to say you had to go home, but you interrupted her and said how you found your pit crew and they were arriving soon.

She nodded and jogged off, presumably to inform someone that can handle things from there. You turn to run out of the building, hastily pulling your gloves on. As you swing the door open, you’re already heading towards your pit. You run past many of the other competitors, and when you arrive at your stop, you slap on your helmet, zip up your jacket, and make sure you’re wearing your straps before jogging over to your car. You don’t know all the nutty mechanical jargon Marco used whenever he adjusted anything, but you’re glad you paid attention when he did, because you moved your seat, adjusted the window straps, and checked the tires before you deemed your baby good enough to drive safely.

You took a breath and crawled into your car, and just on time too, because the Grand Marshall yelled out for all the drivers to start their engines. As a quick afterthought, you sent Undyne some text messages so they would know who you are and what to do.

**You (2:24 pm)-** Hey Undyne, just wanted to let you know some different things before I start the race. When you get to the pit stop, there’s going to be a green tower with the main ear piece on a stand. I need you to put the crew chief up there, and hook them up to the radio. I already have mine on

**You (2:24 pm)-** When the radio’s up I can talk to all of you through your earpieces, but only one the crew chief can talk to me through theirs

**You (2:24 pm)-** Also this might be important, the name’s Anna. Annalise McGovern on the screens. I’m in a bright green, black and yellow Chevy near the middle of the pack

**You (2:25 pm)-** Lucky number seven, am I right?

Kissing your fingers, you patted the steering wheel for good luck, and turned your car on. Shifting to first, you started rolling slowly out, following the other cars as they chugged onto the track. The Pace Car came by and placed itself ahead of everyone else, as you lined up somewhere in the middle of the thirty-four racers.

You pushed out the noise of the crowd and the commentators, disengaged from the heat of the cars around you… right now, it was just you and the track. The familiar nerves started prodding at your concentration, and you hesitated a bit, glancing back at your pit stop.

The small, blocked-off area was empty, and your confidence failed a little more. They were a real group, right? They weren’t messing with you? Undyne sounded like she knew what she was doing, and it seemed like she was talking to some other people when she answered the phone.

You moved your stare back to the road as you smoothed onto the track, the Pace Car speeding up a bit as they began the pre-race laps. You shook your head.

Right now you had to focus. The race would start soon and it does you no good to start overthinking things now. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel, speeding up a bit as the announcers began reading off names and stats.

“ _Perrault Morgan, age twenty-seven, and one of the top NASCAR racers from three years ago. Recovering from a nasty crash at Charleston, James what do you think…?”_

_“Jerome Rahily, age thirty-eight, everyone’s go-to favorite and planning to_ retire _after this year’s season…”_

_“Annalise McGovern, age twenty-three, our rookie racer of the year and daughter of the one and only Gregory McGovern, who faced a tragic accident on the final lap of Daytona…”_

You pushed them out of your mind.

The parade laps were short but slow, and you were getting antsy after the third time passing your empty pit stop. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and despite how you know texting and driving is dangerous, especially in a car that is about to go more than two hundred miles an hour, you hastily pull it out hoping it’s Undyne.

It is, and you thumb through your phone until you can read the text. Flicking your eyes between the road and the phone, you scan the message quickly.

**Undyne (2:37 pm)-** Hey punk, I’m up on the tower. Imma radio you in a mo

You slip your phone back into your pocket and, as promised, your radio blipped three times in your ear before a voice rang through.

“ _What’s up, twerp!?_ ”

Adjusting the volume a little lower, you put your hands back on your steering wheel as the parade starts to slow down.

“Hey!” You greeted, “Undyne? If I remember right?”

Some shuffling could be heard on the other end of the radio, “ _That’s the name punk, don’t wear it out!_ ” She cackles.

You chance a glance out the window, but you’re blocked by some gasoline trucks that stand between you and the pits, “I can’t really see you guys from here quite yet, it’s just the parade going on, but it’s nice to… meet you? I guess?” You laughed a bit, “I’m sorry I can’t hear all your voices. We have two more laps to run before I can make a pit stop. Undyne, do you mind introducing me to everyone?”

“ _Well, duh! Gotta get you all buddy-buddy before we start. I’m gonna put them on one at a time, just the six of us out with you._ ”

“Okay.”

There’s some more shuffling, and a moment of silence, when a startlingly loud voice blasts through, “ _Human! It is nice to hear your voice! Because I cannot see you right now! I am The Great Papyrus! Ex-royal-guard in training at your tire gunning service! Nyeh-heh-heh!”_

… Is that his laugh?

Not to be rude in your own head, but his voice is extremely funny, and reminds you a lot of that one skeleton from that game you played once? Skeletal? Skeleter? Ahh, you’ll think of it later.

“Hi Papyrus!” You smile at your own absurdity, “Can I just call you that? It’s easier to say.”

“ _Why of course! I, being as cool as I am, can don the invisible title! Because it’s so obvious from everything I do how great I can be!”_

“That’s wonderful!”

A different voice comes through.

“ _Isn’t it?”_

“Hi,” You try once more to glance through the window, but you see the person in the car next to you making a stupid face at their rearview, and snicker a bit. “Who are you?”

“ _The name’s Sans, pal. What’s so funny?”_

“Oh nothing,” Your window is blocked again, drat! “Just some racer next to me making a silly face.”

“ _Does that mean they’re a… silly facer?”_

You. Stay. Silent.

Not in a bad way, though, you’re just trying to hold in your chuckles. This guy was funny!

Without giving you a chance to recover, the microphone is passed to someone else, and a… robotic? Voice filters in.

“ _Oh Darling it’s simply wonderful to meet you! Surely you’ve heard of the name Mettaton, haven’t you?”_

You had no clue who Mettaton was, though you could take a pretty good guess that… he? He. Was just introducing himself. Though, for the sake of not making him upset, you tell him you have heard of the name.

“ _Oh goodie!”_ He drawls, _“It seems my work here is already done!”_

There’s no more comment from him, but someone else speaks.

“ _H-Hello! My name is Alphys, and uh… it’s… nice to m-meet you!”_

“Hi Alphys! That’s a cute name, and it’s nice to meet you too.”

She squeaks and you hear the earpiece drop, there’s some rustling and a quick apology before the radio switches hands again, and a new, younger voice comes on.

“ _Hi Anna! My name’s Frisk! I’m your seventh man… or woman.”_ They giggle. “ _Either one works for me!”_

Does that mean they’re a-gender? Probably. You can work with that.

“Hey Frisk! Great to hear your voice, looks like I’ll be seeing a lot of you around my window.”

“ _Absolutely! Which is awesome, ‘cause I’ve always wanted to be a racer! Talking to you is gonna be so cool!”_

“I’ll bet! I’ll tell you about everything you need to know!”

“ _This is so exciting! I’m making friends with a racer!”_ You laugh at their excitement. “ _This is so cool! Hey! Hey! Look out your window! I’m waving, see?”_

Oh! You totally forgot you could see them on your way by!

You make sure to stay in line with the other cars before you turn your head to your pit stop. Indeed, you could see a teen in a striped shirt waving excitedly at you, and you were about to down your window to wave in return, when you glanced at the rest of your pit crew and almost lost your alignment in the group out of shock.

… Were those monsters?!


	2. Get This Show on the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, hey! I just couldn't wait to post this chapter, I already had it done and I was too excited. XD
> 
> Enjoy!

Blinking twice, you steadied your hands on the steering wheel, hardly believing what you were seeing.

Monsters! On a race track!

There were never monsters on a race track! Not in the history of NASCAR! And as you rolled by the pits, you could see excited and happy smiles on each of their faces.

You continued to stare until you’re blocked once again by the gasoline trucks, and as you turn to the road once more, Frisk’s chatter in your ear distracts you.

“ _You saw us right?! I hope you saw us! We’re so excited to help you out today!”_ You hear them calling Undyne back over, “ _I’m gonna go gear up, okay? Good luck!”_

You still can’t believe what you saw, and your voice is little off when you answer them, “Yeah… Okay.”

You expected Undyne to yell into your ear once again, but you’re left alone with your thoughts as you assumed your team was assembling themselves for the race.

There was too much going on for your comfort, so you pushed everything to the backburner so it could simmer while you raced. As you passed the start of the final pace lap, you glanced over again and… yep. Still there.

Oh well. That’s what you get when you rush for something last minute.

You cruised by them, centering yourself for the last time. The crowd’s cheering a dull buzz, the announcer’s voices just a whisper, the cars next you only obstacles.

You can win. You _will_ win. You _will_ make him proud.

Undyne’s voice in your ear directed you, “ _Thirty-five miles an hour in the pits, punk. You comin’ in?”_

“Yup, four tires and gas. Good?”

“ _Roger that._ ”

You strained in your seat, trying to make yourself just tall enough to peer over the other cars, and you see the pace car turning into the pits. Most of the racers have the same idea as you, coming in at the start, while a few other continue to the stand, where the starter chief is waving the green flag.

Let’s go.

At the speed limit, you approach your pit, and you see your makeshift team getting ready at the side of the barrier. Frisk is holding the marker, and everyone else is holding various tools and gear they’re going to use for the car.

You’re interested at what their skill level is, and you hoped that they would be at least half decent.

Boy, did you ever underestimate them.

The second you slid into position, the two tallest ones, a fish lady and a skeleton, were already positioned at your right tires, the car lifted, thanks to the solid arms of the robot (you connected the name to the voice, it’s Mettaton), and the two gunners offed the tires in nanoseconds. Two new tires hovered nearby them, losing their blue glow as they fell into place and were screwed tight just as fast. They _leaped_ over to the other side.

On your left, a small lizard held a gas can as they filled the car, and a shorter skeleton held his hands out as he presumably placed the new tires onto the car. Frisk was right by your window, smiling wide and wishing you good luck as Mettaton let the car drop, and no sooner had Frisk cleared the path, you were off…

… Woah.

The speed and efficiency of this team was incredible, certainly made possible by magic, and as you rode the limit up to the exit, you were astounded to see you were one of the first ones out.

Shifting gears, you launched yourself into the line of racers, placing seventh thanks to your quick stop.

Any noise that could’ve been heard disappeared, being overtaken by the loud revving of your motor. The faces in the stands blurred as you picked up speed, the poles of the catch fence whipping by so fast they looked like a wall. You were flattened against your seat, your heart racing as fast as your car and steadily picking up as the adrenaline of the racetrack invaded your mind. A quick smile flashed on your face and your hands gripped the steering wheel with a relaxed, but focused, control.

Two cars were on your left, keeping you on the outer lane as you took your first turn. The temperature of the tarmac was high, you knew, which meant less traction on your tires. Knowing this, you eased into the turn, taking a wide arch and brushing with the wall as you kept pace.

By now, you knew that all the racers should be on the track, and holding true to your position, you flanked the two cars you saw earlier as you fell back onto the straightaway.

Keeping awareness, you pushed the car faster, aiming to cut across the cars next to you and take the inner lane. They refused you though, blocking your path solidly. You conceded to the outer lane.

You stayed right next to those cars as you continued the race, taking your turns with little difficulty and holding your position steady.

It wasn’t until the fifth lap, when the heady rush of excitement turned to a dull buzz of concentration, that you heard Undyne’s voice through the radio.

“ _How you doin’ out there punk? All stretched out n’ ready to rock?”_

You raised the volume of the radio higher, “Absolutely! How’re the other racers looking?”

“ _Ya got three right on your tail, and a line of five behind those two next to you. Ain’t looking as hot as you do though.”_

You chuckled into your radio, making sure to keep your focus on the road that was positively disappearing under your wheels.

“Thanks Undyne, really that was all team work. Your team is incredible by the way. You’re not cheating by using magic are you?”

“ _Fuhuhuhuhu, that good, are we? Nah, we go by the rules.”_

You push this to the back of your mind for the time being, choosing to take advantage of a space made by another car and advancing to sixth in the standings.

“ _When do you come in by the way? Is there a pattern you work with or somethin’?”_

“I usually come in if there’s a caution near the pits, there’s a lot, so I can pick and choose if I have enough.”

“ _And if there is no yellow?_ ”

You curse in your mind as the person ahead of you slows down, and you lose a few places in the process.

“Then I come in every forty to fifty laps.”

“ _Any particular strategies you play by?_ ”

“I had one with my old crew, but it’s kinda hard to understand if you weren’t there. So, I’m planning to play this by ear until we can sit down and hash one out.”

“ _Wait, you’re saying we’re your permanent crew?”_

“Well, not permanent, per say. If you want to though, I’d take you guys in a heartbeat.”

“ _Ha! A rookie like you?! I thought your sponsor was giving you these kinds of things!”_

You shrug even though she can’t see it, “Yeah? Well, my sponsor is up in the air right now, and to be perfectly honest, you guys are _the_ best team I’ve seen in—Woah!”

The car next to you tapped your rear on turn four, and you were wobbling pretty hard. Trying to straighten out, you come off the turn and into the apron, hearing Undyne yell something like ‘brakes’, you turn your wheels to the track and break _hard_. The screeching of your tires fills the air, and with a groan from the engine, you find yourself straight again.

You immediately pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time as you belt onto the track once more. Everything seems to be working fine, but you lost a lot of ground with your little incident, and beat yourself up about it when you see you’re in twenty-fourth now.

You take a breath to calm yourself, and as you find your place in the pack once more, you wait a few seconds before you hear Undyne on the radio again.

“ _Close call. You got good reflexes._ ”

“Thanks.”

“ _You good?_ ”

“Yeah.”

The line goes silent again, and you move your focus to the race. You’re about ten laps in out of two-hundred, a little embarrassing to spin out that early, but at least it gives you time to catch up. You know you should do a pit stop, but you’ll only lose more ground if you’re still on a green flag. You’d probably need a change of tires after burning them with that brake; gas wouldn’t hurt either, would it?

You glance at your gauge, and decide you’re okay on gas.

Being close to last, there’s a lot more cars around you, and you’re stuck in the middle of a three lane group, which just makes it harder to maneuver. You devote your attention to an open spot ahead of number thirteen on your right, and nose your way through the other racers until you’re on the outside lane.

You stick to this strategy for a while.

By the time Undyne speaks up again, you’re around the tenth position, and you’re thirty-five laps into the game.

“ _So, who’s to say we aren’t looking for a more experienced racer?_ ”

“I’ve been a racer for more than one season, and I’ve been a fan for much longer. That not enough?”

“ _I dunno. How many firsts you got under your belt?_ ”

At this, you cringe just a bit, “three.”

“ _Hmm._ ”

You feel kind of bad. You know you’re not the best racer out there, but you also know that if Undyne and her team were by your side, you’d surely get better over time. They seem to have such a great team dynamic, and if you could find a strategy that you all could work with, this might turn out to be your best season yet!

Not to mention the fact that you wanted to show your mother you could take care of yourself.

“Let’s make a deal then.”

“ _A deal?_ ”

“Well, more of a bet, really.”

“ _... I’m listening.”_

“If I win this race, then you and your team become my permanent pit crew until this season’s Daytona.”

“ _And if you lose?_ ”

“And if I lose…” You had to fish around for that one. What could you give them that they don’t already have?

“If I lose, then I’ll admit that I’m not worth your time, and I’ll give you each fifty dollars for helping me out today.”

“ _A hundred.”_

“Seventy-five.”

“ _Eighty-five._ ”

“Eighty.”

“ _Deal._ ”

The line went silent, and you smiled to yourself. This was one heck of an opportunity. You cannot afford to lose.

Centering yourself back into the race, you glance around for openings, taking them when you can and exploiting everything you can find. You nudge your way in front of a yellow car, and stay on the inside lane for now. You settle into position eleven, riding the tailwind of the car in front of you as you gather yourself for the rest of the race.

After a number of laps, you’re about to push forward, when Undyne announces there’s a yellow flag, and the Pace Car comes out ahead of everyone as you slow down.

“ _There’s a spinout behind you, one car into the wall, and another down into the apron. Might take a bit to clear out. Wanna come in?”_

You watch the chief starter waving his yellow flag on his tower further down the track, and making a quick maneuver to the inside lane, you speak. “Yeah, two back tires, please. No gas.”

“ _Comin’ right up._ ”

Turning off the track and onto the pit road, you slow to the speed limit and head directly towards your pit.

Stopping right on the mark Frisk provides you, the three tire changers and Mettaton get to work on your back two tires. In the few seconds you’re provided for conversation, Frisk introduces you to the timid Alphys, who was your gas carrier, and then gives you a thumbs up, telling you to win that bet.

In no time, you feel your car drop back to the tarmac, and you speed off, hoping to pass the pace car and get a lead.

As you approach the end of the pits, you urge to go faster, but in order to avoid a penalty, you don’t, and as a result, you are forced to merge with the other racers. Thankfully you were close enough to the front to get a good spot, and you settle into eighth with satisfaction. The pace car stays in field for a few seconds more, dispersing the same moment Undyne announces the green flag signal.

Right away, the cars in the front burst away with tremendous speed, the racers behind them following closely. You’re caught in this burst as well, and as you fly forward, you skirt by the car on your right, moving to place in front of them and to the outside.

You push your way through the other cars, fighting for your position as you speed around the turns and dash along the straights. Being in the top ten isn’t easy, but you work around the difficulty, finding little holes and openings in the group that you slip into with little trouble.

You battle like this for a while.

After many place changes, pit stops, and another couple cautions thrown out there, it’s reaching the final stretch of the race, and you’re still battling in fourth.

At this point, it’s pretty difficult to pass someone, if only because you’ve become acquainted with how the people around you work (It’s one advantage of having so many laps to do).

The temperature has only gone up, and with such difficult traction, you find yourself _just_ grazing the barriers on several of your turns. Undyne has become a constant buzz in your ear, giving you stats or telling which cars are around you, even telling you to _move_ because there was a huge chance the guy in front would spin out.

He wobbled pretty hard, but fortunately he kept himself straight, thanks anyway Undyne.

As you came upon your final lap, you were in third place, leading the outside lane. It’s weird to lead, you think. There’s nobody in front of you, and nothing to block your path ahead, and it makes you wary of yourself, you having to constantly make sure you’re not slowing down because you’re unpressured.

You followed the two cars next to you around the first turn, already looking for a hole in the next turn. Undyne was yelling something into your ear, but even with her loud voice, you could only concentrate on the road.

Up came the second turn, and no chance came to gain a place, so you stayed on the outside and followed—wait.

As the cars in front turned, they slid ever so slightly to the outside.

With the small space between the fourth and the second car, you doubt you can get through, but when the cars turned, the two in the front widened out, which could potentially leave a space for you to slip to the inside. You smirked and gripped your wheel as you approached the third turn.

This could go really bad, or work really well. On the one hand, you could slip through the gap they make when they turned, coming up on the inside lane, and therefore gaining second place, if not first. On the other hand, you could straight-up crash into the front of the fourth car, or the back of the second car. Or you could even miss them both, slip through the gap, and if you’re a second too late, you could hit the apron and spin out, losing the race. You could even turn too much on the inside and spin right into the oncoming train of cars!

Is it worth that much risk?

Thoughts and theories flying through your head, the third turn is upon you, and before you can rethink yourself, you turn into the gap. You overestimated the length of their shift, and you end up clipping the back left of the second car.

The bump forces your wheels inside, and you could feel the car turning already, heading for the apron. You turn your car the opposite direction, usually making the backspin worse, but start correcting that backspin midway into the turn, bringing your car into a harsh wobble, but straightening out at the last moment.

Because the turn falls inwards towards you, you don’t lose any momentum, unlike the other car, who, after a glance in the rearview, seems to have fallen behind you by a good meter or two. Whoever was in that car had also dealt with a hard misdirection, you could tell because it was still wobbling just the slightest bit.

Turning back to the road ahead, you wanted to pump your fist and whoop with joy. You actually pulled it off! But with final turn coming tight, you still had to beat the first car, which was now directly in front of you. Settling for celebrating later, you grip the steering wheel as you try to come up with some sort of plan.

Undyne was positively screeching in your ear, and with such little time between these last two turns, you couldn’t think of anything special you could do.

When the track curved and started turning into the straightaway, you belted into the outside lane, putting pedal to the metal as you settled for a test of speed.

The car ahead of you had tried to cut you off from that maneuver, but you were quicker, and pulled up just next to them as the turn finished.

The both of you accelerated, your speed reading over two hundred miles an hour as you raced with them. You were catching up, inch by inch, but the racer ahead was determined, and as you both approached the checkered flag, you pushed your car as hard as it could go.

At the very last second, they nosed ahead of you, and just like that, you crossed the finish line. You had lost.

You breathed hard, staring ahead and into the road as your car gradually slowed. Then everything came back all at once.

The crowd was over the moon, cheering and screaming and anything that could make noise. The announcers were booming their voices across the circuit, yelling nonstop about the action that just took place in this battlefield. The racers around you were all high on adrenaline, their cars moving almost restlessly as you all took a final lap, but Undyne…

Undyne was the worst of them all, whether she was screaming in happiness or anger, you couldn’t tell. You could hear the faint voices of the other team members in the background, but Undyne was hysterical. She was speaking too fast for you to understand, and too loud for it to register anyway.

You let it all wash over you, drowning in the noise and emotions in the air.

You were overwhelmed, this was the craziest day you’ve had in your lifetime, and yet, even as you approached your pit knowing you lost, a huge smile played onto your face.

You were awesome out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just continuing the introductions, the fun stuff will come soon~
> 
> Tell me how that race scene was by the way!


End file.
